for: @erisharrington / CLOSED where: the capitol when: shortly after the arena attack
Corduroy Falto sat back in the leather seat, drink in hand, eyes watching the doors open and close as patrons made their way in or out of the restaurant. It was mid-afternoon ( closer to 1:30, but he told himself this to justify the drink ) and the sun shone brightly through all of the skylight windows, brightening up the place despite all of its dark colored interior. He had asked Eris Harrington to meet and was hoping to gather a little more information if possible, especially with her knowledge. Cord would respect anyone building a life for themselves in journalism, even if their preferred forms were different.
The man was about to start playing a dangerous game, one he had no rule book for. There had always been hints and shadows of the truth growing up in the Capitol, but Cord had been too blinded by the lifestyle to see it. Now, though, in the wake of a serious chess move by the districts, he had to give into temptation.
But for now he left those heavier thoughts aside to enjoy the drink and peruse the menu. He purposely arrived earlier than his meeting time, the type to like getting a lay of the land instead of walking into something unprepared. So journalist of him.